Caretaker of Silence
by Faba
Summary: She turned the ring on her finger, and was dangerously close to throwing it out of the window. [bookverse]


**Author's note: Whee, another bountiful one-shot that should fill you all from your head to your toes with glee. **

**This is set before the Emerald City. Just so you know. **

**Disclaimer: This disclaimer was written in vain. **

The gold of her ring sent an array of fanciful colors bouncing about the ceiling. It fit snugly on her finger, and hugged her dark skin like a child would do to her mother, or a husband to his wife… or lover. Her eyes were deep brown pools of contempt, while her mind wandered and cursed. She turned the ring on her finger, and was dangerously close to throwing it out of the window.

Too bad, she had no time. For at that moment a very familiar face bustled about the corner, with her skirt held in her hands, and a deep frown creased upon her face; the perfect image of an angry woman.

"What is it, Sister?" Sarima asked, still messing with her ring.

"Your husband is – he is –" she sighed, "unbelievable!" Then, she gathered herself once more and bustled away, head foreword, arms swinging, and muttering curse words under her breath.

Sarima took off her ring and stared at it, silently thanking him for refusing her sister, especially when he had refused her just the night before. It was a comfort to know, that he hadn't declined her because of his wife alone. That he hadn't deprived her because of sex because of something she had done. No, it was something else on his mind. Another woman?

Sarima looked down the darkened hall, which smelt of rain and mold. Thunder cracked outside, followed by lightning that flashed throughout the whole hallway. Sarima only saw memories, though. Ones that haunted and others that soothed. They entered and exited her self-conscious like a cat stalking through its owner's garden, slinking like cool liquid, its eyes mischievous. A tear slid down her cheek. What had happened to her family?

She silently thanked herself for wearing her soft and worn leather boots. So, as she walked down the hall, no audible noise vibrated off of the walls. Utter silence.

Sarima wondered why silence was so comforting; so peaceful. A child could drop a vase and it would startle. A wolf could howl and some would shiver. Was silence really that calming? In the darkness, one could fall asleep, but one could also take quite a fright if they heard an unmethodical noise break out into their silent bliss. Silence had its aspects… it all depended on how a person looked at it.

Sarima wondered what Fiyero thought of silence. She took a left. Did he enjoy the quiet? Sometimes, it seemed as if he always wanted silence. Just the other day, he had taken another walk about the grounds and had been gone all day, coming back at dinner, and then retiring for the night. When she had finally come to bed, he was dead asleep.

Just then, Manek came barreling around the corner, chasing a despaired Nor. In his hand he held a lizard, in which he had at arms length. He giggled maniacally as they both rounded the corner and out of sight. Nor screamed. The silence was broken.

Sarima's face dropped. Why wasn't Fiyero out here coaxing his own children to behave? Where was he anyway? She took another left and scowled as she recognized Irji's voice yelling, "Nor, come back and meet Lizari!"

Fiyero needed to get his head out of the clouds and back onto the ground, because he seemed so distant lately. It seemed that his time at that university and away from his own people had done him little justice. After his graduation, they had gotten married and she had heard almost no talk of this place, besides the friends he had made. Apparently, there was a beautiful, Gillikin blonde, included in his circle of friendship. Sarima suspected that more than education was accomplished at his university. Was he missing this mystery girl? Is this why he had seemed wounded so, lately?

She sped up and tightened her cape about herself, finding comfort in the autumn fresh folds of cloth. The rain pattered outside, speeding up in the amount of rainfall, and then slowing down; varying in its proportions; teasing the folks wishing for the sunshine. Too bad that Sarima had no intention to stop and wish for a nice and sunny day. Too bad she didn't care.

Well, that wasn't entirely true, she realized, while cursing the stone steps she had started to climb. She wished the storm cloud that hung over her house would leave… poof into oblivion; never to rear its ugly head again.

She slipped into her bedroom and there he was, sitting at the window seat, staring out at the downpour. Sarima cleared her throat, intentionally.

A millisecond later, his head snapped in her direction. He relaxed noticeably, and blinked at her, raking his brain for something to say to his wife. Sarima walked over and sat down next to him, ignoring the specks of rain dotting her face.

"Fiyero," Sarima said, touching his shoulder.

"Yes?" he asked, keeping his eyes pinned on the world outside, avoiding eye contact.

"What are you thinking about?" Sarima narrowed her eyes at Fiyero, annoyed at his common aversion of heart to heart. She was a woman who needed to talk to her husband… she needed heart to heart.

"Nothing," was all that left his mouth.

"Fiyero," Sarima started, but was cut off.

"It's nothing, Sarima. Now, I think I'll go off to bed." He got up and pushed past her.

She got up as well and followed him like a plague, soon pulling him down once more, and sitting him on the bed. She looked at him straight in the eyes. "No, Fiyero, something is wrong. Tell me."

"No, it's nothing, I swear," he responded dully.

Sarima could deny it no longer, or keep what she knew any longer, either. "Fiyero… look me in the eyes, and tell me the truth. You're in love… aren't you?"

His face froze into a deep sullen look that told Sarima all she needed to know.

"What's her name?"

"I just don't know."


End file.
